


a circle whole

by goukyorin (sashimisusie)



Series: her rank equals mine [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Originally Posted on Tumblr, finally some slight nsfw action, slowest of slow burns, spoilers for cassandra's personal quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3237755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashimisusie/pseuds/goukyorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Right meets Left somewhere in the middle, Cassandra realizes this: that her life has been split into before and after, Fade-green tear marking the divide. But one constant has remained: Leliana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a circle whole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [varentains (storminlover)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storminlover/gifts).



“ It was all true, what the Lord Seeker Lucius said. I thought it all lies, but now I have seen that there is nothing left of the Order I believed in to save. It was all—— ”

Pain, backed by anger and betrayal, tears the words from her and stops her throat, warping her from the inside to form something other, something foreign. It sits ill on her tongue, leaden in her mouth, and she wrestles it down to settle uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach. Snapping with the freedom of it, Cassandra’s voice stops, starts, and shatters upon the floor, breaking.

“ ——I have been a fool. ”

Grief. That is what it is, snaking around her wrists to keep her hands balled at her side and burning hot against her eyes. A blind fool, who sees too much and not enough, overlooking the things right under her nose. She lets the Left Hand draw her closer, curling fists against the fabric of Leliana’s cowl where it settles against her chest.

Head bowed and vision blurring, the Seeker allows herself this moment of weakness, armour cracking and shield-arm faltering in the safety of one of the few who know her best. As gloved hands stroke at the short hairs on her neck, a soft voice murmurs soothingly, as Cassandra cries for the first time in what seems like years.

“ I do not deserve to be here, ” she manages between hiccups, fighting to pull back on the floodgates of her tears. It seems as if every hurt has been amplified and collected, Andraste’s vial of tears collected and embittered by time and silence.

“ _Cassandra_. ”

Her name leaves Leliana’s lips sharp as a reprimand, startling her into wide-eyed silence. The Spymaster stares her down, laying aside each example of perceived ill and resting it upon her own shoulders with impassioned breath. Cassandra has truly been blind, she knows now, but her faith demands that she see more. She sees this, first of all: that her life has been split into before and after, Fade-green tear marking the divide.

But one constant remains: Leliana.

Right meets Left somewhere in the middle, lips pressing and fingers teasing down and over to complete the circle that is their sundered halves. Breath caught in mouths warm and wet, they move in a harmony that comes with years of understanding. The Chantry, and before it even existed, Andraste said that the Maker watches over them all, the great and the small. Cassandra wonders aloud, biting at her lip to keep from making too much noise as well-practiced hands linger in places and trace over others, whether He sees this.

Leliana smirks. “ Possibly. Is that something you want? A third party? ”

“ Oh, shut up. ”

It’s not exactly a prayer that she exclaims, but neither is it wholly blasphemy. It is, like most things in life, hard to define in black and white. Colour spray and light dances at the edge of her vision and Cassandra swears, quiet, pressing her face to the curve of Leliana’s neck. The world as she knows it narrows to shadows cast by firelight and red lips to match redder hair, faith united in more ways than one.

“ You know they will talk about this, if they have not already. ”

If it is concern, it is misplaced. Perhaps it is a way out. Cassandra ignores it, and tilts her chin up. “ We are already traitors and heretics, Leliana. There is little left for the Chantry to hold over our heads that we have not already dashed to pieces already. If it is reputation you are concerned about, I will punch anyone who dares to speak ill of you. ”

Leliana smiles, just for her, and meets her halfway.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a meme: Send a ♡ to hear how Cassandra would tell your muse that she loves them without actually using the word “love.”  
> Humourously enough, the title is also the ship tag on my roleplay blog.


End file.
